


Experiment

by ultharkitty



Category: Transformers: Shattered Glass
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-29
Updated: 2011-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-28 11:13:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultharkitty/pseuds/ultharkitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blades has come to find his team mate.</p><p>Contains: consensual medical experiment, mention of interfacing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Experiment

Blades wasn’t pleased.

He peered around the door to Ratchet’s workshop, a scowl on his face and his cables so tense he felt as though they might snap. First Aid was strapped to a bunk, his fingers twitching and his laughter ringing out loud and clear.

Ratchet was nowhere to be seen.

Blades ran a scan of the room, just in case the mech was ducked down behind a table or hiding in a closet. There was no sign of him. Good.

Blades snuck into the room. Ratchet had some explaining to do. Keeping First Aid tied up, not letting him see his team, not letting him out on missions. Probably ‘facing him stupid. Right here. On this pit-spawned slagging bunk.

Snarling, Blades looked around for something to kick. But there was nothing that didn’t look dangerous. And that was more trouble than he needed right now.

“Hehehehe, copter!” First Aid giggled. The bunk squealed as he tried to sit up, and failed.

Blades hurried over, but couldn’t find any way to undo the bonds. “Where is he?” he growled. “I’ll tear him apart.”

“Nononononononono,” First Aid replied, suddenly serious. “You gotta go, we got experimental conditions. You’re not part of the parameters.” Then he burst into giddy laughter again.

It felt as though the floor had been whipped out from under Blades’ feet. His optics filled with dark little stars; his equilibrium failed. “What?” he said.

“Gogogogogo!” First Aid giggled. “You’re ruining our science!”

Blades sagged. It wasn’t meant to go like this. First Aid was meant to welcome him with open arms (and everything else), to plead with him to cut the bonds and take him back to their quarters. “You don’t mean it,” he said.

“Science!” First Aid cried, in the same tone a Decepticon might use for ‘justice!’ or ‘freedom!’ or any of their other stupid words. Blades decided he didn’t like science.

And he didn’t like Ratchet. In fact, he hated Ratchet. No, he _loathed_ him, despised him with every micron of his overheated frame. There wasn’t a word for how he felt about Ratchet.

“Suit yourself!” he snapped, and whirled for the exit. First Aid would be sorry, and so would Ratchet. Blades would make sure of it.


End file.
